Riot Girl
by andyeascrewyou
Summary: When Elena Medina joins the rank of wrestlers at WWE, she finds herself in a precarious position of making Stephanie McMahon and Edge angry. What can she say? She's the Riot Girl! Potential OCRandy. REEDITED
1. Chapter 1

How many times have I edited and re-edited this story? Countless times. But hell, inconsistencies make me do it! I was just originally winging this story but now I know where I'm going with this. I already have about 12 chapters planned out and ready to type so hopefully I can be a bit more consistent with updating. I plan to add a chapter every week.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except Elena Medina. WWE and their superstars all own themselves unfortunately.

WARNING: Use of sexual derogatory language is used in this chapter. You have been warned.

* * *

I stood outside the Honda Center in Anaheim, California. It was the same building that I had known for the past 23 years of my life on Earth. Yet it held a new meaning for me, it wasn't the place to go watch stand-up comedians, Anaheim's Mighty Ducks, or just a place to hang out. 

This would be the site of my WWE Raw debut.

My name is Elena Medina, the newest diva contracted to Monday Night Raw. It was a hard road to get to this point. I had the ability to wrestle, grateful for a childhood surrounded by male cousins interested in fighting and watching the greats of early wrestling history. My natural tomboy tendency was my main way in. The only thing I had worried about when I tried out were my looks. I never found myself that attractive. I had a lean athletic body from years of wrestling, kick boxing, dance, soccer, and other various activities. I had brown hair past my shoulders, a small nose, a pouty mouth, and bright hazel eyes.

"Miss, are you all right?"

I jumped, shaken out of the daydream I found myself in. A security guard was looking at me funny.

"I'm sorry, here's my pass."

He glanced at my pass and at me, again. I smiled. He opened the door for me. I muttered a thanks and headed down into the backstage area. I had already given my parents and close friends their front row tickets for my debut. I was nervous, hands shaking, throat dry. I finally asked a stagehand where the women's locker room was and so kindly, he escorted me to it.

None of the other divas were in there although their belongings were strewn about. Since being hired (and skipping the social training of OVW), I had yet to meet anyone on the roster. I dumped my hefty bag onto a bench and dug through various articles of clothing before I found my ring attire. I opted for a special outfit, consisting of a black mini-skirt and a black tank top with parts ripped out down the sides replaced by blue netting. I looked at the clock above the door. 5 o' clock. Plenty of time to scout the place and perhaps find a few wrestlers.

I had just stepped out of the door when I crashed into someone. BAM! I fell to the floor.

"Sorry! Are you ok?"

A hand came into my vision. I grasped it and pulled myself up only to find myself face to face with Adam Copeland aka Edge. I gawked.

"Now, who might you be?" he asked.

"Um, I'm Elena. The newest wrestler." I answered, mentally shaking the cobwebs from my brain.

"Really? Well, no offense but you're the most gorgeous diva out of Raw if you don't mind me saying."

A school-girl giggle erupted out of me, "Of course not. Thank you."

I had been leaning against the wall and Adam moved closer so there was barely an inch between us. I could hardly breath. He was very good looking, with his dirty blonde hair hanging shaggily an inch above his shoulders.

"Would you do me the honors then of taking you out to dinner after the show?"

"That sounds great!" I enthused.

"Who knows, maybe after dinner..." he paused.

"What?" I asked.

He leaned forward, his lips right next to my ear, "I'll let you fuck me."

"WHAT?!" I bellowed.

"Come on, babe. I'm the hottest guy in WWE. I'm the Rated R Superstar. I know you want to get down." he leered.

I instinctively pushed him away, "You know the whole Rated R thing is a gimmick, right? You're just a prick with a big ego who can't even get any!"

All of a sudden, he slammed me into the wall, pinning me so to anyone walking past, it would look like we were in a lover's embrace.

He whispered in my ear, "Now you listen here, you goddamn cock tease. You're lucky that I offered to let you fuck me. But now that you're being a bitch, I'm not sure. Maybe I'll just have you suck me off."

Anger and rage filled me and I slapped him hard across the face with all my might.

He looked at me in shock, raising his hand to his red face.

"You'll regret that, you cunt." he declared, and stalked off.

I glared, crossing my arms to keep myself from shaking. Then I started to laugh, quieting slightly when other people began to give me strange looks.

"So will you."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season! I know I did! Hope that 2008 is your year!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except Elena Medina. WWE and their superstars all own themselves unfortunately.

* * *

"Good evening to the viewers at home! I'm sitting at ring side with Jerry 'The King' Lawler at the Honda Center in Anaheim, CA." said esteemed announcer J.R. Ross. 

"It's going to be a great night, J.R! Last week on Raw, Edge and Randy Orton teamed up and got revenge for DX! What's going to happen?" exclaimed the exuberant Jerry Lawler.

Backstage, a young metro sexual man with black wavy hair and blue eyes approached the creative team, dropping his briefcase onto the table.

"I have bad news, guys." the man stated.

One of the writers glared at him. "What?"

"The debut match of the newest diva acquisition, a Ms. Medina, vs Mickie James has been canceled for health issues. We need a filler match."

"Are you kidding? JEEZ!" a female writer screeched, "Who can we put in for live television?"

"Don't worry," assured the man, "I have word from Mr. McMahon of the match to occur instead of the Divas. It'll be Adam Copeland vs a jobber."

The writers glanced at each other. Edge versus some no-name?

A male writer looked at the young man so conservatively dressed who came bearing the news, "How does that work? It has nothing to do with the Edge/Orton stable vs DX."

The young man paused, contemplative. "I'm assuming it does, I asked the same thing to the boss but he told me not to worry about it. Neither should you. I've already informed the sound and camera guys. I will personally bestow the news onto the jobber, one of you should find Copeland."

With that, the young man walked off.

"God, some times I hate this job." muttered one of the writers as he got up to informed Adam Copeland.

Back from commercial, J.R was talking about Allen Montago, a man wearing baggy baize pants, a black shirt, and a luchador mask that was plain like early Lucha masks, who was already standing inside the ring.

"Who does this guy think he is, J.R.? A mask?" Jerry chortled.

"This isn't the guy to mess with. Allen Montago has received many titles in MMA and other fighting organizations. He's a top competitor, excelling in unique martial arts and wrestling." J.R informed.

"I'm just wondering whose going to take him on?" mused The King.

The song, Metalingus from the band Alterbridge, erupted from the speakers as fog billowed in from the stage entrance.

Lawler yelled out, "IT'S EDGE! IT'S EDGE!"

Edge came out wearing black wrestling tights with the Rated R emblem on them, covered in his traditional black trench-coat. Lita accompanied him in an outfit consisting of a black revealing top and skinny jeans. Orton followed behind, in a snazzy black suit. They stopped outside the ring and stared at Allen Montago with a bewildered look on their faces. Then they laughed.

"This guy is going to get slaughtered! Way too small to be fighting a heavyweight." Lawler condemned.

"This guy has skills." J.R stated, "You never know!"

Edge beckoned for a microphone and received one immediately. He guffawed a couple more times before bringing the microphone up to his lips.

"What is this? I'm wrestling some guy wearing a freakin' mask?! I'm one of the top guys in this business, besides my friend Orton, and this is who I have to wrestle?"

Lita and Orton, those lackeys, nodded in agreement.

"I have to admit, J.R, that being the top superstar in sports entertainment shouldn't have to wrestle a nobody." Jerry agreed.

J.R retorted back, "Everyone has to wrestle a nobody at some time."

They quieted to see what Edge had to say.

"You know what? I'll come in there and beat you just to send a message to everyone here in this ghetto town of Anaheim and to the wrestlers backstage, that it's time to watch out for Rated RKO!" With that, Edge got into the ring, flinging his coat over the ropes. Lita and Orton took their positions at ringside.

The bell rang signaling the beginning of the match.

The two men circled each other warily. Edge immediately went for a spear but Montago dodged it, making Edge crash his shoulder into the metal post of the ring. Montago ran across the ring, then toward Edge who was still standing with his shoulder on the ring post. Montago ran up Edge's back to the top rope and jumped off, feet landing directly on his back. He sprung up from that hit, turned his body in the air and crashed into Edge's back again except this time with his posterior.

"Well, talk about unique, huh J.R?" snickered Jerry.

Cheers and applause began to fill the arena for the young jobber Montago only to be brought by boo's when Orton came in the ring with an RKO while the referee was checking on Edge.

"Edge could have the match won here!" exclaimed Jerry.

J.R mumbled, "Cheater."

Montago was lying still on the mat. Edge slowly removed himself from the post and turned around. He quickly slide for the cover.

One.

Two.

Montago kicked out. The crowd cheered.

Edge dragged his opponent closer to the turnbuckle. Then he proceeded to climb to the top of the ring post.

He jumped.

Montago moved.

The crowd yelled louder.

Soon it became clear that no one was really certain of the outcome of the match. Both men exchanged blows, clotheslines, DDTs, and covers. As the match progressed, Edge visibly got more and more frustrated.

While Edge had Montago in a submission move close to the ropes, the referee made the appearance of checking to see if Montago was being choked, he whispered, "5 more minutes." This was to let the wrestlers know that the match needed to end soon.

Edge relaxed, relieved that it was about to be over. The victory had been promised to him backstage by the writer who told him of the jobber match.

Edge's mistake was his relaxation on the hold. With it, Montago got out of the hold and did a drop-kick, connecting his feet against Edge's chest. He toppled over the ropes to the outside. The referee went after him. The loud noise that erupted from the audience informed Montago that either Lita or Orton were coming up behind him. His leg kicked backwards and Lita fell. Orton came rushing in, only to receive an RKO from Montago, payback from earlier in the match.

The crowd roared.

With the ref still outside the ring, Montago rolled both interlopers out of the ring. He turned around and got speared.

One.

Two.

Kick out by Montago.

Then the unbelievable happened.

The skinny lightweight Montago delivered a powerbomb to Edge. He immediately jumped onto the top rope by the ring post and waited for Edge to stand. Then he jumped to the other side of the ring post and performed a spinning kick.

Edge toppled.

Montago for the cover.

One.

Two.

Montago tensed up.

Three!

The crowd cheered loudly and whistled, standing on their feet.

"He did it!" J.R hollered.

"Here's your winner, Allen Montago!" Lilian Garcia announced.

Montago, still in the ring, pointed to Lilian's microphone. She gave it to him with a questioning glance.

"Actually," a deep voice drawled out from behind the mask.

He took it off.

"Hailing from this lovely city of Anaheim, your very own riot girl, ELENA MEDINA!" I exclaimed happily. My entrance theme "Riot Girl" by Zebrahead blasted from the speakers.

The audience went wild.

I set the microphone down, glancing at the shocked faces of the announcing table.

I giggled at the positive response of the audience and waved to my family sitting ringside. I slid out of the ring and came face to face with Adam, still lying down on the mat of the ring. His expression was priceless.

"Don't fuck with me." I whispered.

I walked backwards up the ramp, smiling and laughing. The ear piece I wore was amusing me of the announcers' commentary. I was able to listen in to the technical crew, knowing that there had been no command for the camera guys to turn off for a commercial. Only when I disappeared behind the curtain, I heard the cameras go to break.

I was ecstatic. I was stoked. I was pumped! I ventured away from the gorilla position, down the hall, into catering with a big grin on my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Adam rushing into the men's locker room, an angry scowl marring his face.

"Hey, great job out there!"

"Really excellent!"

I turned around, confronted by the legends themselves, Degeneration X.

The King of Kings and The Heartbreak Kid.

The Game and The Showstopper.

HHH and HBK.

"Wow, thanks guys. It's an honor to hear that from legends." I gushed.

Shawn hit Trips on the shoulder lightly, "Aw, she called us legends!"

"Do you think you could wait here until I get my camera? I'm a huge fan!" I asked.

"Sure, but you know, there'll be plenty of time and opportunities to take pictures with us. You work here now." Trips commented.

I hesitated, "Well...I don't know about that. Especially after this stunt I pulled. I might not be around much longer."

Shawn asked, "Why?"

"Because of..."

"ELENA MEDINA!" a voice screeched through the air.

"...that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except Elena Medina. WWE and their superstars all own themselves unfortunately.

* * *

_Previously on Riot Girl:_

_"Sure, but you know, there'll be plenty of time and opportunities to take pictures with us. You work here now." Trips commented._

_I hesitated, "Well...I don't know about that. Especially after this stunt I pulled. I might not be around much longer."_

_Shawn asked, "Why?"_

_"Because of..."_

_"ELENA MEDINA!" a voice screeched through the air._

_"...that."_

* * *

I turned and saw the angry woman in a black tight suit headed in my direction. Her dark brown hair flowing around her angry features. It was the boss.

Stephanie McMahon.

"Ms. McMahon! How nice to see you! My, you look lovely this evening!" I complimented, a plastic 'dear God don't kill me' smile on my face.

"What...was that?" Stephanie questioned, "You were supposed to have a match with Mickie James, not Adam Copeland! And who did you sneak in here to impersonate my father's assistant?"

"Well..." I shrugged.

Trips put his arm around his wife's shoulders, "Stephanie, calm down. Everything went smoothly. The crowd got a kick out of it!"

"Yea Steph," Shawn interjected, "she was breathtaking out there! Spontaneity is always a good thing."

"Exactly!" I nodded vigorously.

"Stephanie." a deep distinguished voice called out.

Our little group was suddenly dominated by the strong presence of the real boss.

Mr. Vincent Kennedy McMahon.

Eep.

"Father! I was just reprimanding Elena..."

Mr. McMahon interrupted, "Wait, I want to hear her side of the story of how she managed to accomplish this feat under our radar."

Double eep.

I felt everyone's stares including the few wrestlers that gathered to see the spectacle.

Triple eep.

I mentally shook myself. Breathe. In. Out.

I straightened my posture, "Well you see Mr. McMahon, I was exiting the ladies' locker room when I stumbled into a Mr. Adam Copeland. We exchanged pleasantries and he invited me to dine with him after the show. He seemed friendly so I accepted the offer. Then he propositioned me for sexual favors, I refused, he got angry. I slapped him. He spewed off foul language ala the c-word and stormed off. I should have found management and told them of the sexual harassment that Copeland shoved upon me but I have heard that much isn't done to the men who do these things. For example, a Mr. Orton and his behavior backstage. As I always do, I took matters into my own hands."

Mr. McMahon looked at me, "I see. Continue."

Stephanie glared at me.

"I disguised myself as a man and pretended to be your assistant so I could change the match. Then I went into the sound truck to mess with the wiring so that when I announced my name, my song would automatically play. I stole an ear piece from one of the technical guys so I knew what the announcers were saying and when the cameras were rolling. I made up credentials for the announcers so it would look like they knew what they were talking about."

I took a deep breath, "If you expect me to apologize for my behavior, I won't. I don't regret a thing of what I did even if it costs me this job." I announced defiantly, staring into the beady eyes of Mr. McMahon.

A long pause.

I was sweating bullets.

He laughed, "I like your spunk, kid. Please call me Vince."

I heard one of the wrestlers whispered "It took me forever for him to let me call him Vince."

His buddy replied, "I'm still not allowed."

"Thank you, Mr...I mean Vince." I said, smiling.

"Stephanie," Vince announced, "you and Creative better get to work on putting Elena into a storyline before the next Raw. Perhaps something with Lita?"

Stephanie gritted her teeth, "Yes, Father."

The two McMahons walked away.

"See," Shawn stated, "you're going to be around for awhile."

Trips and Shawn left, along with the crowd of wrestlers that were watching. I walked over to the small food table and grabbed myself a soda and some French fries to tide me over till the end of the Raw taping. I sat down at a table with a monitor so I could see what was happening inside the ring.

"Impressive show with McMahon." a voice rumbled behind me.

"Uh huh" I munched on my fries.

"Using me as an example of sexual harassment was a classy touch."

I dropped my fries.

Uh-oh.

I stared straight ahead. I felt his weight to my right, his leg lightly brushing mine as he slid his long lean legs under the table.

"Mind if I have some fries?"

I shook my head.

I saw his tanned hands snatch some fries from their container. I still stared straight ahead. Through my peripheral vision, I could see him looking at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and a crooked smile.

"You know, just for the record I didn't sexually harass any of the Divas. I may have mistreated one of the Diva's handbag with lotion but that's about it."

I finally turned and looked at the man beside me.

The Legend Killer.

Randy Orton.

"Uh huh" I muttered disbelieving. "You got suspended for just that?"

"Well, no." he replied sheepishly, "I was caught smoking marijuana."

"I see. Have you learned your lesson?" I asked.

"Yep, more now because if I get caught doing something stupid, I'm afraid you'll beat my ass on live tv." he remarked.

I laughed. "I suppose you should be wary."

"Wary?" he bantered, "I'm scared shitless!

I rolled my eyes at his exaggeration.

"Excuse me, Elena?"

Randy and I turned our heads and found Mickie James, the former Women's champion.

"Yes?" I inquired.

"Hey, I'm Mickie...You know how Stephanie's assigned us to carpool to the hotel together? I can't, Stephanie needs to go over some story lines with me. You know, last minute sort of things." Mickie said.

"Of course," I shrugged, "The hotel's only a couple of blocks away. I'll walk."

Mickie, reassured by my statement, walked off.

"You know, the guys and I can give you a lift?" offered Randy.

"Thank you for the offer but I'll be fine."

"I'll walk with you then."

"Oh no no no," I shook my head, "Really, I grew up on these streets. Nothing will happen."

Randy smiled, "You forgot to mention that you know how to take care of yourself."

"That too."

"Fine," Randy said, "I'll walk with you for company. I won't take no for an answer."

"Since I'm letting you walk with me, you can pay for some grub. I'm starved!" I moaned.

He stared at me, "Your fries?"

"You ate more than me!"

So we headed out to a nearby restaurant for a late night dinner. As much as Randy is a cocky arrogant son of a bitch on television, it was refreshing to find that his off screen personality was on the other side of the spectrum. He told me of his life growing up with his grandfather and his dad being wrestlers. Then the inquisition turned onto me.

"So you grew up around here, right?" questioned Randy as he took a sip of his drink.

"All my life, born and raised, 'on the playground where I spent most of my days'..." I quoted from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

"What was it like?"

I shrugged, "Not much to it. Quiet studious student. Crazy hooligan whenever I got to hang out with my cousins. They're the ones that influence me to get into wrestling. Now look where I am."

"What do your parents think?" Randy asked, "My going into the profession was a given."

"They were surprisingly fine with it. I went to college and got my degree. That's all they wanted from me." I surmised, "It's getting late. Let's go."

We walked and talked back to the hotel to check in. Randy got his room key and everything. I went up to the desk.

"Hi, a reservation for Elena Medina?" I politely asked.

The concierge typed into her computer and frowned, "I'm sorry I don't have a room under that name."

"Are you sure?"

"Wait, you said Elena Medina?"

I nodded.

The woman shuffled through papers on her desk before pulling out one.

"Someone left a message to cancel your reservation. We've already given that room away."

I glared, "Did this someone leave a name?"

"I'm sorry, I can't reveal it. Hotel policy." she said.

I pulled a twenty out of my pocket and surreptitiously slid it into her waiting hand. The woman looked around before putting it in her pocket.

"A Ms. Stephanie McMahon." she divulged.

I stalked away from the concierge desk.

"You know, Randy, this bullshit that Stephanie's pulling is getting real old, REAL QUICK." I steamed out, pacing back and forth in the lobby.

"Elena..." he started.

"First, she probably threatens Mickie to have nothing to do with me. Then she cancels my room. What about my luggage? Oh man oh man."

"Elena..."

I rambled incessantly onward, "What am I suppose to do? I don't have enough time to stop and get clothes before the plane leaves! Where am I going to sleep? My apartment is all closed up!"

I started walking toward the door when I felt a hand slightly tug on mine.

"You're going to room with me." Randy replied.


End file.
